


Trying to Get Better (Cause I Haven't Been My Best)

by Paradise_of_Mary_Jane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 09:41:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7217350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paradise_of_Mary_Jane/pseuds/Paradise_of_Mary_Jane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sirius turns up on their doorstep in the middle of the night, shivering and looking miserable, his trunk in tow, James can honestly say that he has no idea what to think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trying to Get Better (Cause I Haven't Been My Best)

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic has been in my folder for at least a year (more like 2 tbh) and I've gotten sick of constantly picking at it so... Enjoy!!
> 
> Title is from Frank Turner's song "Getting Better"

When Sirius turns up on their doorstep in the middle of the night, shivering and looking miserable, his trunk in tow, James can honestly say that he has no idea what to think. Normally, he doesn’t need to. He’s always had the skill of knowing just what Sirius needs and when he needs it, but…

 

Well they haven’t been normal for a long time now.

 

For a moment, James can only stare at Sirius. He’s tense, pale-faced, shivering slightly against the summer drizzle, and refusing to meet James’ eyes. He hasn’t met them for a while now, not properly anyway. Not since six months ago.

 

“What are you doing here?” James asks and immediately knows it’s the wrong thing to say. He hates himself a little for the hostility in his voices; whether or not Sirius still deserves it is up for debate but he honestly looks like a kicked puppy that James had just kicked again. James knows he can be cruel sometimes but he’s really been working on being better about it. Sirius flinches but thankfully, doesn’t run.

 

“I know I—I’m sorry but—Can I-Can I come in?”

 

James doesn’t say anything. Six months ago, hell even a month ago, he had entertained the idea of cutting Sirius out of his life, it had felt so easy to do when James can clearly see the destruction he wrought; now, seeing Sirius shivering, eyes trained on the Welcome Mat, and looking as if he’d be anywhere but here and asking James anyway, not so much. James sighs and steps back to let Sirius in. Sirius only hesitates a moment before entering.

 

They linger in the living room for a moment. The silence between them isn’t awkward—it never is. James doubts it ever could be—but it’s charged and tense the way it has been since Sirius decided Remus’ condition was a game.

 

“Want a bite to eat?” James says when it becomes too much. He turns and begins to look for a towel. He isn’t looking at Sirius, who’s still standing awkwardly by the door, but he knows that the other boy’s shaking his head. Instinct and all that. He knows enough not to ask, at least. Sirius will talk in his own time; anything earlier and you’d just get sarcasm and not-answers. Besides, it’s not as if there’s anything James wants to say to him.

 

A part of him wonders how this still works. They haven’t spoken properly for months, hardly even looked at each other, but somehow James still knows exactly what Sirius needs. He already knows the answer, of course. It shouldn’t be this easy—what Sirius did should have complicated matters—but somehow, against all reason, it still is.

 

“Well you’re going to get one,” James says. “Kitchen. Now.”

 

James doesn’t look back to see if Sirius will follow; he knows he will.

 

He hands him the towel he dug up from a cupboard when Sirius has seated himself. He’s still shivering despite the warmth of the kitchen. Sirius takes it silently, still not meeting James’ eyes, and begins drying his hair. There’s a dangerous look in his eyes. James knows it well. It’s the look Sirius gets whenever he’s about to do something monumentally stupid and self-destructive.

 

James ignores it. He wants to get angry and wipe that look off Sirius’ face but this isn’t the time. He hasn’t forgiven him exactly, but it’s not as if he can actually deny Sirius anything, especially when he needs it this badly. He rummages through the cupboards, looking for something edible. No one in his family is particularly good at keeping the pantry filled with proper food, especially when they’ve discovered the wonders of muggle take-away. Nevertheless, there seems to be some biscuits left. He places some on a plate and places it in front of Sirius, who doesn’t even react to it. He’s still shivering, eyes wide and distant. He seems to be seeing a whole other world, a world that’s a long way away from Godric’s Hollow. James never really learned how to pull him back when he finds himself there.

 

“Sirius,” James says again. Sirius’ eyes snap to his. “So do you wanna tell me why you decided to pay me a midnight visit?”

 

Sirius shakes his head, a slow, measured motion.

 

“Not tonight,” he says. His voice is hoarse, as if he’d been shouting. He looks like he’s a moment away from falling apart and James doesn’t know what to do to hold him together. “I know I shouldn’t—but it’s just—”

 

“It’s alright,” James says. “It’s fine.”

 

“Are you sure—”

 

“It’s fine Sirius.”

 

Sirius, it appears, doesn’t have anything to say to this and James isn’t too inclined to elaborate. This isn’t the first time this has happened in all the years they’ve known each other. It doesn’t happen often enough to be a pattern, but there’s no doubt that in the past years, Sirius will spontaneously turn up with those dangerous eyes without a word of explanation. James never asks, just opens the door wide and tries to stuff Sirius full of biscuits. He could ask, James knows, especially now. He could ask and prod until Sirius breaks and actually answers him, but he won’t. He never will. It seems wrong to push someone so hard when they seem so breakable.

 

He has to ask one thing though; the question he’s known to ask since Sirius first turned up so many years ago.

 

“How bad is it this time?” he says quietly, not really expecting an answer. Sirius usually ignores the question, or answers with a witty remark. Not this time. This time, he lets out a laugh, broken and hollow.

 

“It’s bad,” Sirius says. “I don’t think there’s going back this time.”

 

“Sirius—”

 

“Please James,” Sirius says, begs really. “Not tonight.”

 

“All right,” James says. He takes a deep breath and tries to reorient himself. “Okay. Let’s get you upstairs, yeah? Mum and Dad are already asleep. We’ll tell them about it tomorrow, they’re used enough to your spontaneous visits, anyway.”

 

Sirius flinches. “You don’t have to,” he says quietly. “I mean I’ll probably be off by tomorrow morning, or tonight. I just stopped by because—it doesn’t matter, I don’t want to be a bother.”

 

“You won’t be.”

 

Sirius snorts. They never could lie to each other and this feels too much like one.

 

“You won’t,” James insists. _You won’t be a bother because I know you need a place to stay that isn’t that hell hole you call a house but that doesn’t mean that I’ve forgiven you._ It’s not a lie, James tells himself, more like an omission of truths. He’s gotten good at this game over the years, with Sirius Black as a best friend, and all.

 

“It’s fine James, I swear.” Sirius sighs as if he knows exactly what James is thinking. He runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll be gone by morning.”

 

“Look, you did some pretty stupid things, and It’s not as if I’ve forgiven you—” Sirius flinches. Good, a very savage part of James thinks. “—But I said you could always stay here no matter what, especially if you need it. That offer still stands.”

 

Sirius ducks his head and nods tentatively.

 

“Okay,” he says.

 

“Okay,” James says after a moment. “Ready to go up?”

 

Sirius nods again and his hands are shaking. He hasn’t touched his food. He never does. James, as always, pretends not to notice, just gets up and makes his way upstairs. Sirius follows James silently to his room, not even making a sound as they lie side by side on the bed. This is how they’ve always done it. Sirius seems to need human contact the most at times like these, no matter how much he tries to deny it. The bed is big enough that they aren’t quite touching but James can feel Sirius’ breath on his skin.

 

The silence drives James on edge. Sirius is rarely silent. Rarer still when he finds himself back in Godric’s Hollow. He’s loud in everything he does, especially if he’s genuinely upset: loud steps, breathing, boisterous movements, as if he’s desperately pretending that nothing’s wrong. He hadn’t bothered pretending recently, not since six months ago, wearing his silence like a cloak against his friends’ cold eyes. Perhaps it’s a penance, and maybe it’s deserved, but James hadn’t realized how much he hated it until now.

 

“Sirius,” James says. He says the words softly; anything louder seems like an intrusion. “Are you really all right?”

 

Sirius is silent for a long time, seeming to ponder over his words.

 

“What do you think James?”

 

“You will be.” He doesn’t know why the words leave his mouth, only knows that he’ll do everything in his power to make it true, because he may not have forgiven Sirius but it still causes James endless pain to see him hurting so much.

 

His words startles a laugh out of Sirius, this one sounding a little more real, if a bit sad.

 

“I never thought I’d ever hear that from you again,” he says.

 

And James… James doesn’t really have anything to say to that. He forces his mind to settle, forces all the questions and resentments out and lets instinct take over. Sirius will tell him in his own time, until then… Well instinct’s never steered him wrong before.

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

James’ parents, as always, take Sirius’ sudden appearance at their doorstep in stride, hardly blinking when Sirius turns up bleary-eyed with James at the breakfast table, just offers him some omelets and asks after Hogwarts. James’ mother steals a glance towards him though because all of them know what happened six months ago. James just shakes his head and his mother turns back to Sirius with a smile so sunny that even Sirius’ sullen eyes brighten a little. James really can’t help but love his parents so much.

 

They’re not better though, of course they’re not. It’s nearing midnight when James wakes up to an empty room. He goes down to the living room and finds Sirius recounting his money and fiddling with his wand. His heart sinks.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

James can only stare at Sirius, who has his trunk and looks ready to head off. He’s sneaking out, a distant part of James’ brain tells him.

 

“I told you,” James says. “You’re staying.”  
  


Sirius sighs. “Look I appreciate it, I do, and your parents really are amazing, but neither of us really wants me to stay so…”

 

“And where will you go?” James demands. He doesn’t bother to refute Sirius’ statement because Sirius won’t believe him and well, he’s not too sure how. “Back to your parents? Never mind they drove you away in the first place?” James doesn’t really know this for sure, but he can read between the lines. Sirius only finds himself at James’ doorstep unexpectedly when he has a fight with his parents.

 

Sirius releases a sardonic laugh. “That’s not really a possibility now,” he tells James. “I’m going to Andromeda’s.”

 

“You hate Andromeda.” That isn’t exactly true. Sirius had avoided her, but then he was avoiding all the Slytherins. As far as James knows, their relationship isn’t any different from his other cousins; comprised of cold indifference and pointed silence. She never tried to lecture him, though, and maybe that counts for something with the Blacks.

 

“I don’t hate—”

 

“You only like her because she eloped!”

 

“So?” Sirius shrugs, looking at James as if he’s an idiot. “She’s a bit unpleasant but I’m sure she’ll be fine if I need to stay with her, Merlin knows she understands the feeling, and I like her daughter well enough.”

 

“What do you mean she’ll understand? Understand what?”

 

“It’s—It’s nothing,” Sirius mutters, shaking his head.

 

“Sirius…”

 

“James,” Sirius says warningly. “Drop it.”

 

“What happened, Sirius?”

 

“Got chucked out,” Sirius says, voice wavering. He looks as if he doesn’t quite believe it yet. It makes James pauses. He can’t imagine Sirius meaning what James thinks, but then what does he mean? “So yeah, I’m pretty sure Andromeda will understand my situation perfectly.”

 

“By chucked out…”

 

“Disowned,” Sirius snaps. “Disinherited. Burnt off that God-awful tapestry. Take your pick.”

 

“Isn’t that good?” James finally asks, not quite sure how to react. Sirius never acted like he particularly liked his family and they certainly don’t like him very much. James knows a part of it’s just an act for Sirius but some of it has to be true, right? It’s not as if the Blacks ever did anything in the past years to endear them to Sirius.

 

“Good? How in Merlin’s name can this be good?” Sirius asks sharply.

 

“It’s just… Well you’ve always talked about running away, yeah? I thought you wanted it.” James knows he’s made a mistake the moment he looks at Sirius. Sirius all of a sudden looks broken, as if James had just shattered everything within him. “I didn’t mean—” he starts to say.

 

“Disowned James,” Sirius cuts him off. “I didn’t run away. I didn’t tell them to go to hell and left in a blaze of glory. They disowned me. They just as good threw me away because they finally decided that I’m nothing but scum to them. Worse than scum.”

 

He’s shouting by the end of it, looking manic. He’s pacing in agitation, hands clenched tight into fists.

 

“They blasted me off that damned tapestry. I heard it! They’re supposed to be my family and they threw me away as if I didn’t mean anything to them; as if I’m just something for them to use and now that they can’t, they’re getting rid of me.”

 

“I’m sorry,” James says quietly. He collapses onto the couch. Faced with this sudden tirade from Sirius, he doesn’t quite know what to do. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. Sit down before you pull something.”

 

I know,” Sirius says with a snort. He collapses onto the couch and leans into James as if he can’t stop himself. It’s the closest he’s been to James since The Night. “It’s just…” James hums. For some reason, they’re talking about this on some random night while Sirius is trying to run away. James is still angry. He doubts it will go away any time soon, but he thinks he can put aside his anger at Sirius for this, though, just for tonight.

 

“Stay Sirius,” he says. “Please.”

 

Sirius hesitates shooting him a sideways glance.

 

“I shouldn’t,” he says.

 

 _You don’t need to stay with her_ , James wants to shout, _you’re already here for Merlin’s sake!_ He doesn’t know why the thought of Sirius staying with Andromeda is making him so angry. Maybe because it feels too much like another one of Sirius’ bad decisions, like he’s running away again to something much worse because he doesn’t want to deal with his problems.

 

Maybe it’s because it feels too much like the sting of rejection. Nevertheless…

 

“What happened, Sirius?” James asks. He presses closer to Sirius as if they’re sharing a secret too important for the world to overhear. It could have been any other time where they were planning a prank or one of their midnight escapades, but it isn’t. Sirius looks entirely too vulnerable and James still doesn’t know what to say. “What are you running from this time?”

 

Sirius opens his mouth to answer but no sound comes out. There’s a look in his eyes that James has rarely seen, hysteria and panic tinged with madness. James’ hand moves of its own accord and begins rubbing soothing circles on Sirius’ back. Sirius leans into his touch as if he can’t help himself.

 

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he says gently. “But it wouldn’t exactly hurt if you did.”

 

Sirius tilts his head a little and catches James’ eye. He hesitates again and James continues rubbing soothing circles into his back. Sirius is scared and so open before him, the least James can do is to be there before him, especially since he can’t exactly offer any advice. Sirius wouldn’t want it either. James has learned over the years that he’ll only need someone to sit beside him until he can pretend that everything is all right again. James can do that, just for tonight, he can be what his best friend needs.

 

“They wanted me to be a Death Eater. To follow that Voldemort guy,” Sirius says in a rush. His brow is furrowed and he’s flushed a deep red. Any other time, James might think he’s angry, but he’s close enough to see the subtle hurt in his eyes.

 

“A Death Eater?” James says disbelievingly. James’ father complained about them sometimes, when James was younger, how another pureblood supremacist is rising and seems to be gaining support. No one had taken them too seriously in the beginning; there had been a hundred before them after all, James’ mother use to say. But then people started dying, and suddenly he’s the only thing anyone can talk about.

 

“Yeah,” Sirius says. “They called me into the drawing room that night and I thought it was to yell at me for the usual: Duty to my family, having blood-traitor friends, being a blood traitor, and I promised I’d behave myself because I thought I’d have to stay with them for the rest of summer and I wanted to make it the least unpleasant as possibly can. I didn’t want to start a fight.” A bitter laugh escapes his lips. It turns James’ blood cold. “Then they go out and drop that on me. Said I was going to be a Death Eater, didn’t even ask, like I’d already agreed. You can imagine what happened next.”

 

“Yeah,” James says. A sound escapes him that might have been a laugh, though he can’t be sure. The night is cold and the sound disappears into the wind’s distant rustling.

 

“They told me that if I didn’t do as they asked then I’d have no place in the family, and well—I got the message,” Sirius says. “I told them to get on with it. Left and didn’t look back.”

 

Sirius said that he didn’t look back, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t want to. James sees it in his eyes, the same eyes of an eleven-year old who sat beside James in the Great Hall as he disappointed his family. Maybe he would’ve, if his family had called him back. If they had, then maybe the story would have ended differently. But they didn’t and this is all they have. No use in supposing, James thinks.

 

“I think it’s for the best,” James says, after a long moment of silence. He imagines Sirius with those cold people, the people willing to send him to a murderer to be one himself, and feels sick. He doesn’t know how Sirius could ever be related to them but then he remembers The Night and how manic Sirius had looked. That’s the worst part, James realizes, because deep down, underneath all the laughter, pranks, and bravado, Sirius isn’t really very different from his family. A part of him will always be as spiteful, cold, and cruel as the rest of them. It’s just through pure determination that he turned out different. That ought to count for something, though. “I think you’re better off without them.” _You’re better off away from them._

 

“They’re my family,” Sirius says as if that’s supposed to mean something, as if they hadn’t spent the last five years trying to destroy Sirius in the worst ways possible.

 

“No!” James says vehemently. “They’re not. We’re your family, me, and Peter, and Remus, not them. All they’ve done is try and force you to be something you’re not and lash out when you don’t. That’s what they’ve always done isn’t it? Lash out?”

 

Sirius laughs, not sounding very happy.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” he says. “It’s not as if it makes any difference.”

 

“Don’t you dare tell me that they’re anything like us. Don’t you dare.” He feels angry, at Sirius, on Sirius’ behalf, at something else. He doesn’t know what to do with it. “We’re nothing like them. We care for you. They don’t.” He winces but doesn’t take it back. Sirius ducks his head, breathing hard.

 

“They did care though,” he says. “Once. Before I mucked everything up and it all went wrong. Nothing new there.”

 

“Nothing went wrong. There’s nothing wrong with you Sirius,” James says. He’d given up on rubbing circles on Sirius’ back and settled for placing his arm around him, squeezing as tight as he can.

 

Sirius doesn’t say anything. He looks drained, as if he’d left all his life back in London and his body is just now catching up. James supposes that that’s not an incorrect way of looking at it.

 

“Don’t tell me you regret it?” James says.

 

“No,” Sirius says immediately. James breathes a sigh of relief. That, at least, sounds true. “But it still feels like I should.”

 

“You shouldn’t,” James says. “And I’ll—You don’t believe me, do you?”

 

Sirius shakes his head. James wishes he did. Things would be so much simpler if Sirius wasn’t such a stubborn ass.

 

“You will,” James tells him. “One day.”

 

Sirius just snorts derisively. “Sure James. Sure.”

 

“Just stay here for a while, yeah? Let’s find out,” James says gently. “If you think you’re going to be a bother, you’re not—”

 

“Yes I am!” Sirius says. “We can’t even stay in the same room together.” He runs a hand through his hair, a humorless smile on his face.

 

James opens his mouth to say something but Sirius beats him too it, seeming to snatch his thoughts right out of his head.

 

“It’s fine, I swear. I didn’t expect anything to get better, after what I did, I hate me a little too.” Sirius runs a hand through his hair, looking exhausted. James can understand the feeling. “I just can’t stay here, yeah? There’s too much—And I can’t stay here, and sleep in your room, and eat with your parents, if we’re like this. I can’t.”

 

“I don’t hate you, you know” James says quietly.

 

Sirius snorts. “You don’t have to—”

 

“I don’t hate you Sirius,” James repeats. It’s not a lie. It never has been. Even at his angriest, James never entertained the idea that he might hate Sirius. He means too much to James that it would be too much like burning a part of himself out. And a part of James hates that, hates that he can’t even entertain the notion of hating Sirius. “I was-am angry, and I’m going to be angry for a really long time alright, but I don’t hate you. I wouldn’t have let you in if I did.”

 

Sirius’ mouth parts but no sound comes out. He seems to have stopped breathing.

 

“You’re still my best friend, Sirius,” James says. “I don’t think anything’s going to change that, no matter how hard either of us tries.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says. “I know it’s not worth anything, but I am.” He’s said it rarely over the past months. He knows there was no apologizing and none of them wanted to hear one. At the time, it had felt like there was a chasm between them that could no longer be crossed; each apology Sirius makes is just another leap that falls flat.

 

James sighs and runs a hand through his hair. The chasm feels smaller now, though. Maybe one day the apology will finally make it across.

 

“I know,” he says.

 

 

 

 

 

 

\--fini--

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://pdfcct.tumblr.com/)! Say hi!


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